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Ultraman Leg Episode 1
"So then, Hakarl, how is the new meat doing?" "They're doing extraordinarily well, Commander Rauda! This year's trainees are the best I've had in a while! Not only are they talented, but most of them have an excellent work ethic as well! They are constantly applying themselves to the fullest and progressing by leaps and bounds! Truly the cream of the crop amongst the youths of the Land Of Light! Under my expert tutelage these young warriors shall most certainly usher the universe towards a bright future!" "...Most of them?" "Well, there is one...problematic young fellow...His performance in training worries me quite a bit...And that is putting it lightly." "Well, in a talented trainee squad like this an Ultra or two that lags behind the rest is nothing out of the ordinary!" "A laggard? Oh, no, nonononono! Quite the opposite, actually! Tremendously talented in both physical combat and beamfighting! Unmatched in sparring sessions! Constantly setting records on every training exercise there is! A genius of such caliber hasn't been seen in the Space Garrison for millenia!" "Really? Then what seems to be the problem?" "Ever since he's showed up at this training facility's doorstep, his performance has been nothing but stellar...However, despite all that...The kid's never put in any actual effort! Alas! There's no spark in his eyes! No flame in his soul! He has no determination, no fighting spirit...Coasting on his talent like this will get him nowhere! It's devastating to see such limitless potential being wasted!" "If that's the case, then we absolutely must find a way to bring out that trainee's full potential! We are the Ultras of the Space Garrison! The fate of the universe rests on our shoulders! The stronger we are, the easier the civilians can rest! In this peaceful age we Ultras have to strengthen ourselves twice as hard so that when darkness once again engulfs the universe, we'll have an advantage over it! An Ultra with that much promise not reaching their peak performance could potentially spell doom for billions of innocent lives! UNFORGIVABLE!" "Perhaps '''special measures' are in order?"'' "Don't be a fool, Hakarl! Sending him there when he's not mentally prepared would be an outrageous waste of opportunities and resources. There must be a way to rekindle that trainee's fighting spirit...Perhaps he has grown too used to succeeding easily...Hakarl!" "Yes, Ma'am!" "I trust that you consider yourself strong enough to defeat the trainee in battle?" "Why of course! He might be a genius, but I have millenia of hard training and experience on my side! If you wish so, I shall gladly give him a taste of my new and improved Squalenium Ray!" "Then do it! Make him taste the bitterness of failure for the first time! Quitters are a rarity nowadays! He will surely strive to become stronger to avoid tasting failure ever again! Now go, Hakarl! Go and school that youngster properly!" "Yes Ma'am Commander Rauda Ma'am! I shall accomplish my mission without fail!" "I see you are as enthusiastic as ever, Hakarl! Don't disappoint me!" It was business as usual at the Space Garrison Training Facilities. On today's menu was a routine evaluation of the trainees' skills, designed in the form of an elaborate obstacle course - a challenge that tested one's physical fitness, mental toughness, performance in simulated combat and intelligence. The facility's training instructor, Hakarl - a large, burly Ultraman with an extraordinarily sharp head fin and a goofy facial expression that only seemed to change in the most serious of moments, observed his trainee squad's endeavors, jotting down the results of their performance on a data pad. As usual, Hakarl appeared quite pleased, humming affirmatively as the trainees approached the finish line of the course. And there he was, the first trainee to cross the finish line. A stalk of grass sticking out of his mouth and an expression of utter indifference on his face, the lanky blue Ultra leapt gracefully and effortlessly over the last obstacle, sticking the landing perfectly and striking a pose - still with that same indifferent expression. "A new course record! As expected from you, Leg!" Hakarl beamed. Leg let out a sigh and walked over to sit cross-legged next to a wall, chewing on his grass stalk absent-mindedly. Around twenty seconds later another Ultra, by the name of Ligan, staggered over the finish line on shaky legs. "Excellent work, Ligan! You improved your course time by 5 seconds!" Hakarl praised. The warrior in question collapsed to the ground, an occasional sob intermingling with his pained wheezing. "Dammit!" Ligan groaned, pounding his fist weakly against the floor "I tried....Huff...so hard....Haah....I wanted....To beat him so badly....But my best....Haaa...MY BEST WASN'T GOOD ENOUGH AT ALL!!! DAMMIT DAMMIT DAMMIT!" The Ultra in third place, Xoolot, crawled over the finish line on his hands and knees and then proceeded to be violently ill into the nearest waste receptacle. "You progressed from 5th place to 3rd and improved your personal best by 7 seconds! Nice job Xoolot!" Hakarl flashed the exhausted Ultra a thumbs up. "WHYYYYYYYYY!!!????" Xoolot wailed in despair in between heaves, "WHY CAN'T I CATCH UP TO THAT BASTARD NO MATTER HOW HARD I TRY? LOOK AT HIM! HE'S NOT EVEN WINDED!" As his squadmates finished the course one after another, exhausted to the point of complete body shutdown and frustrated from having failed to catch up to him yet again, Leg eyed their plight with undisguised wonder. So this is what failure looked like. It didn't look pretty at all. Ever since he was born, Leg had never experienced failure and defeat in any way, shape or form. Everything came easy to him. His doting parents had catered to his every whim, he had grown up with fairly good looks that had attracted many potential suitors regardless of gender, he was naturally good at both sports and academics, and when he joined the Space Garrison, he was instantly branded a genius...He was truly blessed, wasn't he? Then if he was blessed, why was his life so crushingly boring? In the past he used to consider people with less talent than he had nothing more than losers dealt a crappy hand by fate. But now, eyeing his fellow trainees, prostrate on the ground in defeat and exhaustion, Leg wondered if their lives were much more exciting than his has ever been. Leg had run away from his warm and cozy home and enlisted in the Space Garrison to make his life less dull. He thought that what awaited him were grandiose swashbuckling adventures filled with trials, tribulations, monster battles and excitement. But alas! This era was a peaceful one. An era so peaceful, it was considered an anomaly. And all that awaited Leg in the Space Garrison were hours upon hours of repetitive training that he completed effortlessly every time, as well as heaping mounds of mind-numbing paperwork. Whatever motivation he had at the beginning quickly disappeared. Why would Leg strive to reach his much-lauded potential if he had nothing to fight for? Sat against the wall, Leg soon grew weary of watching his squadmates struggle to cross the finish line. Bored out of his mind, his eyelids drifted shut. A little nap wouldn't hurt, would it? After the last Ultra crossed the finish line, Hakarl ordered everyone to take a break. Most of the trainees were sprawled on the ground - some fell asleep, the others languished in misery. The undisputed winner of today's challenge napped against the wall, dreaming of facing off against a worthy opponent. A slight smile crept over his face. "Alright everyone, break's over! Let's finish off today's training session with some sparring!" Hakarl announced. Slowly, the trainees pulled themselves to their feet, determined to finish strong despite their fatigue. Leg was also roused from his nap, much to the blue prodigy's chagrin. Sparring. At first Leg had hoped that at least this activity wouldn't be soul-suckingly boring. However, he couldn't have been more wrong. All of his training matches had ended the same - a few swift kicks, a beam here and there, and his opponent was out for the count. The only one who had managed to last more than half a minute in a sparring match with Leg had been Ligan and Xoolot. As the training sessions dragged on, many of the trainees outright began to refuse to fight him - some of the Land of Light's most hardworking young Ultras had actually developed a quitter side to them because of Leg's overwhelming ability. Leg was bored. However, this time it was going to be different. "Everyone, your matchups are displayed on this datapad!" Hakarl announced, " However, since poor dear Xoolot has, unfortunately, overexerted himself and is now undergoing checkups in the medical ward, Leg's sparring partner is going to be yours truly!" The crowd of trainees let out a collective gasp. Never have they ever seen Instructor Hakarl challenge one of them to a one-on-one fight. Hakarl was a high-level combatant of the Space Garrison, a dozen ranks higher than a trainee and with millenia of experience under his belt. No trainee, no matter how talented, hasn't had their strength acknowledged by Hakarl in such a way before. As for Leg, he jumped to his feet, an unsettlingly wide grin spreading across his face. He had just been challenged by a high-ranking Space Garrison fighter. Finally, a worthy opponent! Leg felt his lightblood surge hotly in his veins. The grey veil of boredom that shrouded his world was finally penetrated by a beam of dazzling sunlight. "I see you're excited, my boy!" Hakarl snickered, his goofy grin spreading even wider, "I am excited too. After all, I'm about to see the full extent of your power! This is going to be a magnificent fight!" "It sure is, Instructor!" Leg replied, his voice visibly quivering with excitement. Surrounded by Leg's wide-eyed peers, both teacher and student took a fighting stance. "What are you starin' at? You're supposed to be practicing!" Hakarl barked, but soon had a change of heart, "Heh, fine, you can watch just this once. After all, this kind of matchup isn't exactly a common occurrence! Don't hold back, kid! We have an audience now, so we gotta deliver! Let's go~! SQUALENIUM BEAM!!!" Hakarl was the first one to attack, opening the fight with his trademark beam technique. Intertwining his fingers and pointing his palms outwards, he released a wide stream of silvery-purple energy. Quick on his feet, Leg swiftly leapt out of the way, the attack colliding with a wall, sending myriads of sparkling aquamarine shards shooting up into the air. Having anticipated Leg's move, Hakarl followed with a barrage of swift jabs, each of them charged with buzzing energy. Despite the young disciple's speedy footwork, some of the punches managed to connect with his face. The stinging pain threw Leg's focus off for an instant, and that instant was enough for Hakarl to charge up another beam attack - this time a series of thin yet potent beams that shot out of his fingers and spun akin to a drill, and hit Leg point blank with it, sending him hurtling into a nearby pillar. The blue Ultra impacted the pillar hard, taking a large chunk out of it, the impact making him see stars as lightblood spurted out of his mouth. Dazed, he had no chance to retaliate before Hakarl dropkicked him right through the pillar in an explosion of fine crystal dust and debris. The trainees stared on slack-jawed as the amount of collateral damage caused by Leg and Hakarl's fight grew exponentially. "Hey kid, are you really out already?" Hakarl inquired impatiently, "Darn, maybe I shouldn't have used my strongest attacks right away...Well, old habits die hard, but still...Commander Rauda's not gonna be happy if you just lose without even showing what you're made of!" A chuckle sounded from within the cloud of crystal dust. Without even the slightest hint of fatigue or struggle Leg rose to his feet, a thin trail of lightblood dribbling down his chin. He licked it off and grinned, giving Hakarl a defiant glare. "It's been a while since I had the chance to go all out...Thank you for giving me such an opportunity! So far this fight has been pretty damn exciting! But were those really those strongest attacks? You're a bad liar, Instructor!" "Of course they weren't! I'm just warming up!" Hakarl giggled, desperately hoping that he sounded convincing enough. His lightblood was running cold. The Squalenium Beam, Squalenium Beam Drill Mode and Hakarl Dropkick, which he had slaved over for millenia...They really were his strongest attacks! His combat instincts had kciked in and he carelessly used them all in a combo right away, but all he managed to do was draw a few drops of lightblood from the kid. No way! This can't be possible! Leg hasn't even had the chance to attack, and yet...Hakarl already felt as though he had lost. Trembling, Hakarl stared at the slowly settling cloud of crystal dust. Leg's silhouette, distorted by both the dust cloud and his panicking mind, appeared to him like that of a horrifying monstrous entity. For the first time in millenia Hakarl felt true, raw fear coursing through his very soul. "Here I go, Instructor! LEG KICK!!!!" Leg exclaimed, pushing off the ground with all of his strength and delivering a brutal flying kick on his opponent. Putting up his guard and strengthening it with an energy shield, Hakarl blocked the kick with all his might, but was still pushed back a great distance, rending two deep smoking grooves in the floor. "I'M NOT DONE YET!" Leg yelled triumphantly, as his foot burst into flames, the flames engulfing the rest of his body, transforming the young Ultra into a blazing shooting star "THIS IS MY..." Hakarl's goofy grin faltered and changed to an expression of sheer, unadulterated horror. "HOT LEG!!!!" "GUWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!" Leg's flaming kick, into which the young Ultra had poured every ounce of his newly reinvigorated fighting spirit, far exceeded what the current Hakarl, no, even the future Hakarl after a few more millenia of diligent training, could ever hope to handle. With a howl of despair the unfortunate instructor was engulfed by a fiery explosion. The crowd of trainees let out a collective wheeze, some of them slightly singed by the explosion of their mentor. Leg landed in a crouch and struck a pose. "Alrighty then Instructor, let's see what you've got!" he grinned Hakarl lay on the ground, his body covered in a thick layer of soot, his limbs twisted at sickeningly unnatural angles and his stare vacant. The only proof that the poor meme was still amongst the living was the rhythmic beeping of his rapidly flashing Color Timer. An uneasy silence permeated the trainee squad, the outcome of the fight too shocking for their minds to process it. "M-master...Hakarl..." somebody wheezed after thirty seconds of collective gaping. "...Got defeated......" another trainee finished before fainting into his comrades' trembling arms. Kicking the ground desperately, Leg let out a yell of frustration before falling to his knees, devastated. "I can't believe it..." He muttered, voice trembling, "Instructor Hakarl...THIS was.... all you had!?" "DAAAAAAAAMMMMMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!" he screamed desperately into the sky, his fighting spirit flickering like a candle in the wind. ... And then, with a great roar of a powerful engine, and a deafening crash, the training facility's gates were brutally ripped off their hinges. So great was the collision, that gigantic globs of molten metal and rock were sent crashing through the opposite wall. "ULTRAMAN HAKARL! COME OUT AND FIGHT ME RIGHT NOW!" a booming voice demanded with such intensity that the remaining windows of the training facility shattered. Amongst the ruins, leaning his hand on a hellish behemoth of a motorcycle, a lone Ultraman of carmine and silver stood proudly, a majestic crown of five golden horns adorning his head, his powerfully built frame easily towering over the slack-jawed trainees. His orange eyes burned hotly with determination... ...Yet his Color Timer was unsettlingly devoid of light. With a gurgling gasp, Hakarl stirred on the floor, his one good eye that hadn't swollen shut widening in horror. "N-no....." he mumbled through swollen lips, "The....The Zombie Challenger has arrived!!!" The dark-timered Ultra regarded the fallen instructor with a look of surprise and disgust, the latter shrieking and slipping back into unconsciousness as soon as the two made eye contact. Spitting onto the ground next to the unconscious Hakarl, the intruder tsked and turned on his heel. "Wait just a f*ck-mothering second!" Leg's voice rang shrilly. The intruding Ultra halted, turning around. "The one who defeated Ultraman Hakarl was me! Got a problem with that?" the blue warrior declared proudly. "Oh?" The dark-timered Ultra smirked, cracking his knuckles, a bloody red aura of pure power emanating from his body. Perhaps a worthy opponent wasn't just a pipe dream after all. Next episode preview: Leg: That guy's strong! Freakishly strong! Intruder: Those blows of yours...THEY HAVE NO REAL WEIGHT BEHIND THEM AT ALL! Leg: What is this suffocating feeling?! What are those tears?! A mysterious elderly-sounding voice: Do you like it? My portfolio? Don't worry, soon you'll be a part of it as well! Leg: Next time, on Ultraman Leg...''His Name is Brotein! Those Fists Sing a Sorrowful Elegy! '' Leg, Intruder and Mysterious Old Person together: You wouldn't wanna miss it!Category:TheMoonShard Category:Ultraman Leg continuity Category:Fan Series Category:Ultraman Leg episodes